The Columbus journal., 1887-12-21
we rema,aed on the n SIDE Of the fire

KINDLING A FIRE IN THE BOX AR.
watching. Then the memorable smoke OF
| the foe was seen; the pin connecting the
burning car with our engine was pulled
out and we slowly moved on. Too clearly
we saw the ruin of all our hopes! To wait
the coming of our foes was vain. They
were now near at hand, and we could see
their guns, with which they would be able
to fight us at long range. The car which,
if the day had been dry, would long before
this have filled the bridge with q mass of
roaring fame. was burning faster than
the bridge. To take it to another bridge
was useless, for the drenching rain would
nave given it little chance to bur away
from the shelter of the bridge. Very
sadly we left the tall column of smoke
behind. The pursuers saw the car, and
realizing how serious their loss would be
if it was permitted to consume the bridge,
they pushed right into the smoke and
showed the burning car on to Ringgold,
but a short distance ahead, where it vas
left to smoke and sputter in the rain OIL
the side track.
We were now on what proved to be our
last run. l have often been asked If this
day was not one of great fear and terror
On the part of those who were engaged in
the race. For my own part. l cannot
honestly lay claim to any greater fear
than I had often felt in ordinary military
service. No matter what happened, there
was the assurance that We still had q
resource-the power to turn around and
attack the pursuing foe. From the be-
ginning, such a conflict had been present
to my mind as a matter Of course. Be-
fore leaving camp, this had been reckoIed
a natural consequence of our position.
1t had been frequently talked of among
the men, and not one of them seemed to
regard it with any more dread than al
ordinary battle. We had been careful to
select large -evOlvers for use, and not for
show, and when we found the enemy
gaining upon us, or u leaders plans for
their destruction failing, we only felt or
said that our time to strike would soon
come. We did not have the bOastful feel
ing that we were an overmatch for a large
body Of southern soldiers, for we all
knew how desperately they could and
often did fight; but Of the ordinary citi-
Zens gathered up as We presumed our
purSuers were, or even of cOnScriptS, we
had no great fear. That we had not our
accustomed arms was a serious disad-
vantage. but this could be remedied by
getting n close quarters; and we trusted
that our leader, who had shown such
wonderful skill in management, would be
able to put us within short range of the
pursuing train, where We felt sure that We
could quickly give a good account of it.
Probably the fact of Andrews having
never been in battle, but always engaged
in schemes where his own COO daring and
sagaciOus planning counted for every
thing, and mere force for nothing, made
him hesitate to order an attack which
would throw aside all these qualities and
determine the issue by simple fighting.
A time was near when we would firmly
have disputed our leaders command if
there had been an officer of any authority
among us who could have been substi-
tuted for him; but o until Andrews
himself had definitely abandoned his au-
thority.
Many times the question has been
asked: ''Why did you not reverse your ell
CINE, and, jumping of, let it drive back at
the enemy?'' What good could that have
done: If their engine and our own had
been destroyed, as was very probable, to-
gether with q considerable number Of
lives, we would only have been where we
We're before we captured the engine at
all, except that the whole country would
have been aroused, and our disguise
thrown of. The second train would have
been on the ground in a few minutes and
the power of pursuit would have been I'M
diminished. We had no wish to sacrifice
our own engine until the last effort pos
sible had been made. To merely destroy
had no charm for us, when that destruc-
ton cOuld neither promote our escape mol
serve q military purpose.